Have you ever wondered what your life would be like if you had done one thing at a different time? Have you ever wondered if doing that thing a few minutes or hours earlier or later would really have an impact? That’s my big thought for the moment.
I went to crisis counseling again today, and waited for 2 hours. Just when Jane, the crisis counselor, was about to see me, she decided to send me to Beth, who will be my new “official” counselor. I really wanted to see Jane because she was so nice and considerate last time, but I had to see Beth. This riled my emotions up, and made me very uncomfortable. So, I went to Beth’s office and talked to her. I told her that I had had more hallucinations today and that they had gotten worse. I also told her that during and after the hallucinations, I had wanted to jump off the highest point of the football stadium. She told me that my depression was so severe that it was manifesting in psychotic symptoms. I kind of already knew that, but I let her explain that to me. I also told her that I didn’t feel that my psychiatrist is listening to me. She asked me why, and I explained. She kind of took up for him by saying that they have so many patients in Counseling Services that he doesn’t really have the time to spend a great deal of time with each patient. (If he doesn’t have the time to listen to me, then maybe he shouldn’t see me anymore.) She did say that I didn’t need to feel like he wasn’t listening, though. We talked for a little while and cried the entire time. It was the first time that I had been in a therapist office and I had started crying and I wasn’t offered a single tissue. I didn’t even see a box of them. That’s really weird. So I had tears and stuff all over my face. I got to walk down the hall to the receptionist area looking like this. The receptionist saw me and handed me a whole box of tissues. I paid my $5 and left.
On the way home, my mom told me that she had seen Jane and had talked to her a little. She knew Jane couldn’t really talk about me, but she brought up how unhappy we both are with my psychiatrist. My mom also brought up that she thought that I shouldn’t be in Counseling Services (the service for the relatively normal people who get depressed and anxious) and that she thought I should be in Comprehensive Care (the service for the more severe patients – the people with psychotic depression, schizophrenia, and bipolar). Jane told her that she thought I had been placed in the wrong service, too. Jane, who did my mom’s intake appointment, said my problems were exactly the same as my mom’s, which I knew, but its kind of validating when someone other than my mom or me sees that we’ve got the same problem. (My former psychiatrist actually noticed that we were extremely similar and would ask my mom if a medicine worked for her before he prescribed it for me.) My mom asked if there was anyway that I could be switched from Counseling Services to Comprehensive Care. Apparently, I have to convince Beth that I need to switch, so I have to figure out how to do this.
So, I realized that had I been able to somehow change my timing of my first time going into the Mental Health Center by hours or even minutes, then I would have gone to Jane for my intake appointment. Had I gone to her, I would be in Comprehensive Care. I could be on the right medicine and receiving the proper counseling right now if I were in Comprehensive Care. My life could be a lot simpler if things had been just a little different.
Oh, I found out the difference (according to Beth) between me and a schizophrenic. Apparently, I still have a foot in reality, so I’m still a “functional” human being. I don’t really feel functional. Yeah, I go to my classes, but I don’t think I’m functioning anymore. I’m just going through the motions. I guess her definition of functional and mine are a bit different.
I got a few questions about what is wrist-banging, so I thought I’d do a brief explanation. Wrist-banging is a form of self-mutilation where you bang your wrist on something (a concrete step, a bed frame, bricks, etc.) until you “feel better” or, possibly, hurt too much to do it anymore. I have learned that a metal bed frame can do a bit more bruising than a concrete step, which is a bit shocking, but interesting to know.
There’s a woman in my city who starved her 3 children to death and lived with their bodies for a week after they’d died. A lot of people have been saying all sorts of things about her and how they think its pathetic that she could get off on insanity, but I don’t think it is. At first, I thought that what she did was gross and I still think the act was gross, but I think there must be some underlying reason for what she did. And if she decides to plea insanity, then she probably should. What sort of “sane” person starves their child and then lives with their corpse for a week?
I had a test today in Social Work. I think I did pretty well on it, though I may have blown part of one or two of the essay questions. I couldn’t remember exactly what she was asking for, so I tried to write down the answer as best as I could. I’ve got to go back over the stuff so I’ll remember it. It’s just a bit hard for me to study right now. My concentration normally is shot, and now its really much worse. I have a test tomorrow in Health that I hope I’ll do well on. Part of it is on Mental Health/Illness. I think I have a leg up on the competition there. 😉 I also have 2 group presentations to do on Thursday. Not fun.
Oh, I wanted to thank everyone for the sweet comments about the Rose skin. I’m glad it was so well-received, especially for something I just did on the spur of the moment. 🙂